Somewhere In This City Is A Road I Know (Where We Could Make It)
by Ciara2531
Summary: She gave herself sixty seconds to feel the hurt, the disappointment, the tightness in her chest that felt like the weight of a 100 bricks. Felicity centric post 2x13.


**A/N:So, I haven't even properly watched last night's episode. I've seen the Olicity scenes and the Oliver/Sara scene. The beginning of this story popped into my head as soon as spoilers hit Tumblr after the episode aired.**

It's probably the angstiest I've ever written this pairing but sometimes angst is cathartic or something. I'd say enjoy but I'm not sure that's appropriate.

In any event, feedback is always awesome. Let me know what you all think.

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She gave herself one minute.

Sixty seconds to feel the hurt, the disappointment, the tightness in her chest that felt like the weight of a 100 bricks, the lump in her throat that made it hard to breathe, the sting of tears behind her eyelids that blurred her vision but not enough to burn away the images of Oliver and Sara tangled together, apparently desperate for whatever it was they were finding in each other in that moment.

Clenching her fists, she forced herself to suck air into her lungs and then let it back out. It shouldn't feel like this. The analytical part of her brain knew that. Even though it was probably fair to say that she and Oliver were closer than they'd ever been, trusted each other, depended each other in ways that they hadn't before, the cold, hard truth was that he didn't owe her anything. He didn't owe her explanations or justifications and who he chose to sleep with was on him.

It shouldn't affect her.

She shouldn't care.

Except she _did _and one minute wasn't nearly enough.

It wasn't enough because unlike with Isabel, Felicity knew this was not nothing. It wasn't something that Oliver would chalk up to circumstances or proximity. Sara was, whatever he might say to the contrary, someone that he could really care about. He _did_ care about her and so all of a sudden, the words she'd been keeping close to her heart as some kind of proof that _maybe someday _wasn't an insane fantasy…those words were empty and hollow.

It wasn't that Oliver couldn't be in a relationship. It was that he couldn't be in a relationship with _her_ and god that hurt far more than Felicity had imagined. And the fact that it was definitely him and not her didn't make the slightest difference to how she felt.

Swallowing hard, she forced herself to get a grip. She couldn't change what had happened and she couldn't control what would happen. She was a captive witness unless she chose to simply walk away and she'd never be able to go through with that. She wouldn't leave him and the team they'd built just because he didn't need her in quite the way she wanted him to.

The fact that he needed her at all would have to be enough. Besides, it wasn't as if she couldn't have a life outside of Oliver Queen. She'd chosen not to and she could un-choose it just as easily. She could find a different balance in her life if she put her mind to it. It would take time and determination but she could do it, had to if she wanted to save herself from more heartache.

She erased the surveillance footage and set the system to update all its security parameters. Diggle would be there soon and Oliver would want to go patrolling so she had to be _ready_ and _fine. _The last thing she wanted was either of them picking up on her turmoil.

They'd be concerned and she didn't think she'd be able to handle it. She didn't want either of them to know how vulnerable she felt; Diggle because he'd worry and probably take it out on Oliver and Oliver because she knew he'd feel guilty and well, his guilt and his baggage and his _brokenness_ was precisely the problem.

She started to move away from her computers but then she froze because everywhere else she looked, she saw them in her mind's eye and just like that the foundry went from refuge to frontline, from someplace she felt safe to someplace she had to be on her guard.

Sighing, she sat back down in front of her monitors and stared at them resolutely. Flexing her fingers, she forced herself to focus on work. There'd been a series of bank vault robberies in the last few days. The MO was the same in all instances and Felicity knew that sooner or later Oliver would be going after whoever was behind them.

Her job was to make sure he had enough information to work with when he did. Eventually Diggle turned up and so did Roy. It was another hour before Oliver made an appearance and when he did, Sara was with him.

The fresh twinge of pain that Felicity had expected didn't materialize. Instead she felt an odd combination of resignation and numbness. Oliver had told her – was it really less than 24 hours ago? – that she'd never lose him. It wasn't, she realized now, a promise to stay but rather testament to the fact that you couldn't lose what had never been yours.

"These bank robberies," Oliver began.

"I'm already on it," Felicity replied. "But whoever's behind this cleans up after themselves. It's going to take me some time."

"Roy and I can scour the streets, see what the word is," Sara offered.

"Good," Oliver agreed. "I'll go my alternate route and circle back. Felicity let us know if you find anything."

"Yeah," Felicity said, not bothering to look up. "I will."

There was a brief pause and then to Felicity's relief she heard Oliver, Roy and Sara disappear up the steps. She was acutely aware of Diggle leaning against the table opposite her. He didn't say anything for several minutes but she could feel him watching her.

"I'm not going to ask if you're okay," he finally said.

"Good," Felicity said. "Cause if you did I might have to do something drastic like design an app to virtually strangle you."

"Can I say something though?' Diggle asked.

"Can I stop you?" Felicity retorted.

"You made me deal with some truths when it came to Carly," Diggle began. "I'm going to return the favor."

"I wish you wouldn't," Felicity said.

She pushed away from her computers and looked up at him. She didn't want to hear what he was going to tell her but she knew she needed to. John would never deliberately hurt her but he would be honest.

"Felicity," Diggle said, and she could see his concern etched into the lines on his forehead. So much for not letting him see her turmoil.

"I know," Felicity said quietly. "Okay."

She bit her lip in an effort to maintain her composure.

"He really does care about you," Diggle said slowly. "Probably more than he realizes."

"But?" Felicity questioned, knowing there was more.

"But he's no good for you," Diggle said. "The man he is right now…that's not who you need. And I wish I could tell you that one day it'll be different, _he'll_ be different, but I can't because none of us knows that."

He walked over to her and crouched down so she had no choice but to look at him instead of the foundry floor.

"You deserve more than a what if or a maybe, Felicity," Diggle said. "You deserve better than being hurt every time he decides to settle for something less. You deserve to be happy and Oliver can't give you that."

"So what are you saying exactly?" Felicity asked, her nails instinctively curling into her palms hard enough to sting.

"I'm saying don't put your life on hold for him," Diggle said. "Oliver's like a brother to me but right now, when it comes to this, comes to _you_, he's not worth it."

Felicity nodded slowly because she couldn't bring herself to speak. Tears threatened again but she managed to hold them back. She rolled back towards the screens, seizing on the information as an escape from the ache that seemed to have taken over her whole body.

By the time Oliver and the newest members of Team Arrow returned to the foundry, she'd compiled enough information on the banks that had been hit and how to narrow down a list of possible next targets.

"Good work," Oliver said with a small smile.

"And on that note," Felicity said reaching for her coat. "I'll see you all tomorrow."

Oliver's smile turned into a frown.

"It's early," he pointed out.

Felicity glanced at her watch, surprised to see that it wasn't even 10 pm yet.

"It is," she said. "Maybe I'll try to catch up with some friends."

Picking up her bag, she head out of the foundry and toward her car. She texted a few of her friends from the IT department to see if they were up for drinks and they all texted back in minutes, excited to hear from her.

It wasn't much.

It didn't make her feel any better.

But it was her way of pressing play on a life that didn't revolve around Oliver Queen and that was enough for tonight.


End file.
